Recidivus
by skarletfyre
Summary: "I want her back, Albus. I don't care what the cost is, I want her back." Rated M for future chapters.
1. Loss 1

Title: Recidivus

Author: skarletfyre

Pairing: Severus/OC

Rating: R and/or NC17

Summary: 'I want her back, Albus. I don't care what the price is, I want her back.'

Disclaimer: I own only my OC and the circumstances.

A/N: Sorry if it sucks. I'm supposed to be writing an essay now, but it's dull and boring and I'd rather do this.

_Recidivus: Latin for 'The Returning'_

~~~ _**Loss**_~~~

She was cold.

Severus Snape had seen a dead body before. He'd dissected several in his training as a Potion Master. He'd attended funerals. He'd killed several people in his service to the Dark Lord. He was used to death. It was a part of life. But this was different.

It felt as though his stomach had fallen to his knees. There was a curious lump in his throat that made it hard to swallow. His eyes prickled and threatened to leak the salty tears he'd been so desperately holding in. His fingernails dug sharply into his palms as he clenched his fists to keep his hands from shaking. He needed to sit down, but couldn't find the words to ask for a chair. He certainly didn't trust his legs to walk.

People often say of the dead that they appear to be sleeping. However, this is after the Undertaker has gotten hold of them and filled their veins with Embalming Potion, applied enough makeup to make them even better than they did in life, tended to any wounds or blemishes that occur with decay, and finally dressed them up and made them presentable to be viewed and cried over by grieving family members and friends. There was nothing about her now that would even remotely resemble sleep.

The fall had broken her body. Shattered it into a million pieces. Dark purple and black bruises stained her pale flesh. The cuts visible on her face and shoulders were jagged and white around the edges, bit of dirt and debris stuck in between them and dug inside. Her lower lip was split and swollen. A deep gash ran from her hairline to her cheekbone. Her nose was purple and twisted at an odd angle, broken in several different directions. He reached a trembling hand out to pick a small leaf out of her raven hair, then traced a gentle line down her shattered jaw.

A sob was ripped from his mouth, clawing it's way up his esophagus from the pit of his stomach and pushing it's way out into the silent Hospital Wing. The bitter tears he'd been fighting back finally gushed over, cascading down his ashen cheeks. He leaned forward, cupping her pale face, pressing his forehead against hers. His tears dripping onto her face, her dried blood rubbing off onto his. Her head lolled limply to the side, her broken neck unable to support it any longer. The sobs kept coming.

Severus jumped when a hand was placed on his shuddering shoulder. He straightened up fast enough to make himself dizzy and composed his features. Somehow he managed to look dignified as he roughly wiped the tear tracks from his cheeks. His cold eyes stared back defiantly into the baby blues of Albus Dumbledore's.

"I know," was all the old man said.


	2. Remembrance 1

Title: Recidivus

Author: skarletfyre

Pairing: Severus/OC

Rating: R and/or NC17

Summary: 'I want her back, Albus. I don't care what the price is, I want her back.'

Disclaimer: I own only my OC and the circumstances.

A/N: Sorry if it sucks. I'm supposed to be writing an essay now, but it's dull and boring and I'd rather do this.

_Recidivus: Latin for 'The Returning'_

_*_MEE-rah. Irish word meaning 'sea'.

_**Remembrance**_

"_Does reading the books count as touching them?"_

_Severus Snape peered over the top of his newspaper, a single black eyebrow raised at the deceivingly innocent-faced girl standing in front of his bookshelf, one hand raised as through to pluck one of the tomes out of their proper place: on the shelf._

"_What do you think, Miss Blackley?"_

"_I think I need elaboration, sir."_

_Were it any other student, the look he gave her would have made them crumple to the ground sobbing hysterically. As it were, she was _not _any other student, so she simply stared back defiantly, her impossibly blue eyes alight with mirth and challenge. He sighed heavily and lay the paper down roughly onto his lap._

"_Yes, reading the books counts as touching them. Which is against the conditions of you being in here. I allowed you into to personal study to do exactly that: study. I suggest you do so before I have to remove you."_

"_But I've finished all my work!"_

"_Then go away."_

_She made a little sound of indignation, crossing her arms childishly. For a sixteen year old girl, she remarkably resembled and pouting toddler._

"_With all due respect, sir, I think you spend entirely too much time down here by yourself. I understand wanting privacy, but this is unhealthy. I'm not leaving for your own good. Also, you'd miss me."_

_Snape's left eyebrow nearly vanished into his hairline._

"_Miss you, Miss Blackley? Why on earth would I-"_

"_First of all, my name's Meara*, so I don't want to hear any more of this 'Miss Blackley' nonsense. Miss Blackley is my spinster aunt back in Ballybride with her seventeen cats. I'm Meara._

"_Miss Blackl-"_

"_Meara."_

_The two stared each down for a long moment, neither showing the slightest hint of giving in to the other. The fire crackled audibly in the background, voicing the tension in the large study. Finally, they reached an accord._

"_Meara," Snape said softly, as though it sounded strange in his mouth. A triumphant smirk twisted her lightly freckled face, crinkling the fair skin around her eyes and lips. It grew steadily into a smile as he added,_

"_Don't you dare think this means you can address me as 'Severus'. I'll have you in detention with Filch until you graduate before you can get past 'Sev'."_

_She let out a whoop of laughter._

'_I wouldn't dream of it, sir! I value my life a bit too much for that. The last place I want to spend my weekends is with Filch, polishing and re-polishing those damndable trophies he hates so much. Don't see why he can't just use that cat of his to dust them off. She's fluffy enough, the little blighter…"_

_Severus raised an eyebrow, smirking at one of his favorite students._

_Meara Blackley was about as Irish as they came, aside from her astonishingly blue eyes and raven hair. Born and raised in the little village of Ballybride, Ireland by her father and stepmother she was firecracker with a razor wit and a most wonderful sense of irony. Her thirst for knowledge was insatiable, her hand usually being the first to wave lazily into the air when a question was asked in class. At the top of her Year, she was Slytherin's pride and joy. However, she struggled when it came to social interaction. She was popular, of course, her intelligence and beauty saw to that, but she didn't really have any true friends. It was for this reason that Severus Snape decided to take her under his wing. A helpful hand here, an encouraging word there had made all the difference. After a few months of alliance, he had agreed to give her private lessons. Now, three years later, she stood boldly in his study as she had done every Wednesday and Sunday for the past three weeks after completing all of her assignments. Bothering him. He didn't much mind, though._

'_Sir," she said, suddenly serious as was her custom of switching moods, "Can I ask you something personal?"_

"_No."_

_She snorted derisively._

"_Well, that's a right shame, seeing as I'm going to anyways."_

"_I won't answer."_

"_You will."_

"_I will not."_

"_You will," she said, extending her first two fingers and thumb and waving her hand. A curious smirk curled her lips, but he made no comment._

"_Miss Bla-"_

_She cleared her throat loudly. He glared._

"_Meara," he started again. "As your professor, I am not obligated by any stretch of the words to answer any personal questions you ask me. I have already said no, and it is my final answ-"_

"_Are you married, sir?"_

_The question caught him off guard, as did the expression in her eyes. He couldn't exactly identify it, but whatever it was made him falter in his snappy retort. He closed his mouth for a moment and swallowed, composing himself._

"_No, no I'm not married."_

_She looked thoughtful for a moment. Her next words would keep him up for several more hours that night._

"_Good. Night sir!"_


	3. Loss 2

**Title: Recidivus**

**Author: skarletfyre**

**Pairing: Severus/OC**

**Rating: R and/or NC17**

**Summary: 'I want her back, Albus. I don't care what the price is, I want her back.'**

**Disclaimer: I own only my OC and the circumstances. **

**A/N: I probably forgot to mention, but this fic is set when Snape is about 24 years old, so Harry and the rest of the Trio are only toddlers at the moment and have nothing to do with this. **

_**Recidivus: Latin for 'The Returning'**_

_**Loss: Two**_

The large grandfather clock was ticking obnoxiously loud in the corner of the silent office of Albus Dumbledore. The old man himself sat behind his desk, peering over his customary steepled fingers to regard the hunched form of Severus Snape.

Leaning forward, elbows on his knees and head in his hands, Albus was forcefully reminded of the last time Severus had come into his office mourning lost love, not even four years ago. It was heart wrenching then, and even more so now that he'd come to truly know and love the young professor. To go through so much pain and suffering in so short a life… it was a wonder he had the strength to get up in the mornings.

But that was why Albus needed him. He was strong. He was the human equivalent of tempered steel, liken to that used to make the powerful blades of samurai swords: immersed in flame and fire, battered and beaten, then the whole process repeated over and over to create the hard, cold man who sat crumpled before him. However, that hardness could also be a disadvantage. As the years went on, and had gone on, hardness would turn to brittleness. One wrong move and the whole thing would shatter into a million pieces, sending deadly shards of destruction flying out around it. No, Albus Dumbledore couldn't allow that. The blade must be kept sharp and well treated. If it were dulled, chaos would reign in the years to come.

Severus shifted in his seat, recapturing the old Headmaster's attention. He sat up, still holding his face, eyes closed. Slowly, he dragged his hands down his forehead, his cheeks, his chin, tugging the skin taught under his long fingers. When his dark eyes opened, the only thing reflected in them was agony. Albus's heart ached to see him like this.

"Three hours ago," Severus started, his voice low and gravelly from the 20 minutes he'd just spent crying, "she sat in my office and told me that she loved me and wanted me to run away with her."

He swallowed reflexively, the muscles in his throat working furiously. He looked down again, his dark hair partially obscuring his face. When he spoke again, his voice was a shaky whisper.

"I told her to stop being foolish. She had her whole life in front of her to fall in love and get married. When she graduated, whatever we had together would be over. I was fool!"

At the last word he stood suddenly, his chair toppling over behind him. He turned, running his hand harshly through his hair, taking a deep breathe to calm himself. Albus said nothing, just sat and waited. Severus pinched the bridge of his nose and squeezed his eyes shut, as though trying to block something from his mind.

"I told her," he said, "that a schoolgirl girl infatuation was not grounds for spending a lifetime together. I-"

He paused, drawing in a shaky breath.

"I basically told her that I didn't love her."

"Do you?"

Severus looked at the old man behind the desk, regarding him with those black tunnel-like eyes of his. He was silent for a long moment, the ticking of the clock once again filling the deafening silence.

"With all my heart," he said softly.

Lucius Malfoy almost fell back in shock at the gaunt face that met him as he opened the large double doors of his ancient mansion. He was so surprise that all he could do was stand and blink as his old friend shoved his way inside, throwing back his rain soaked hood and shutting the door with a wave of his wand.

'Severus!" Lucius said, finally recovering his senses. Delight quickly changed to concern at the look on his young friend's face. He'd seen it once before, and it bode no good then. To see it again meant something disastrous had happened.

"What is it? What's happened?"

"Is there somewhere we can speak in private, Lucius?" Severus said in a low voice. "The matter I have to discuss with you is not for-"

"Severus? Is that you?"

The pale man whirled around so fast it nearly made Lucius dizzy. Narcissa stood in the doorway at the end of the entrance corridor, looking as lovely as Venus herself. She stepped forward, smiling, and hugged Severus in greeting. Lucius noticed he returned the gesture stiffly. Narcissa evidently noticed as well, for her smile dropped a little.

"I thought I heard your voice," she said, stepping back. "What brings you to our home on this ghastly evening?"

"I have something I must ask of Lucius, as shocking as that sounds," Severus said with a hint of his old sarcasm. "I regret that it is private, and I regret even more that I am in hurry. Lucius, may we adjourn to the study? I haven't any time for small talk. It was lovely seeing you, Cissy. I'll drop to stop by and see Draco soon, but for now-"

"Say no more, I understand. I'll arrange a dinner for us all, next weekend perhaps?"

Severus nodded curtly and glanced at Lucius. Taking the hint, the older man directed his friend forward and to the left, leading him into a rather spacious and decadent study, one of the ones Lucius used to impress important guests. He gestured for Severus to sit, but the dark haired man shook his head, apparently preferring to wear holes in the Axminster. Lucius crinkled his brow in worry. He could count on one hand the time he'd seen Severus Snape pace, and all of them preceded some sort of cataclysm. Normally he would offer brandy, but tonight something told him not to. He cleared his throat.

"You said you had something to ask of me, Severus?" he said, tilting his head slightly to the left. Severus stopped pacing and looked at him, uncertain determination clear in his eyes. He stood there for a moment, wringing his hands, then took several strides forward, standing only inches away from the elder Malfoy. He opened his mouth once, but nothing came out. He tried again. It still came out barely above a raspy whisper, Lucius straining to hear.

"Lucius… What I am about to ask… I need you to swear to me, no matter what happens, that you tell no one. This conversation is to be strictly between us. I ask for an Unbreakable Vow, but I don't want Cissy to be involved and I- I trust you. I need your help, Luc."

His school nickname combined with the pleading look in Severus' eyes did him in. He lifted an elegant hand, placing it comfortingly on his friends shoulder.

"Of course, Severus. I owe you one, remember? What do you need me to do?"

"You don't have to do anything, _per se_, I just need something from you."

"Anything I can give is yours."

The brief flash of gratitude in those dark eyes was not lost on Lucius. Whatever Snape had gotten himself into, he would be right there, ready to fight to the death to get him out of it, just as Severus had done for him not so long ago.

"I need- I-" he faltered, licking his lips nervously. He leaned forward fractionally, and Lucius tilted his ear to hear him better.

"I need the _Book._"


End file.
